The last time
by Mikasa Es Su Casaa
Summary: Jean tells himself every time that it will be the last time- Short stories of Mikasa and Jean's relationship over time; set in modern time


AN: I originally wrote this on tumblr .com - posting it on FF to organize my stuff better.

—-

The first time they hooked up, they were both drunk and full of desire. It was a hot summer day, and their sweat made their clothes cling to their bodies. Jean will never forget how Mikasa's blouse hugged her curves, nor will he forget taking off her clothes for the first time and seeing her milky toned body. But for the life of Jean, he can't even remember why she was there in the first place. She was probably lonely, and as always, Jean was available for her.

The second time they hooked up, Mikasa was upset because Eren had started dating Levi. She didn't even bother saying hello before she threw off her shoes and forced her lips upon his, not that he minded. He knew it didn't mean anything, but he couldn't help but want more than just something physical. At least the sex was good, he supposed.

The third time was the first time he ever felt guilty about being with Mikasa. She had just started dating Annie, but things weren't working out between them. They were always fighting about this and that, especially about her unhealthy attachment to Eren. Jean could see where Annie as coming from, and he felt guilty about being with Mikasa. He didn't want to be the other guy, even though it seemed he was always the other guy in Mikasa's life. But when she came over and asked him to hold her, his heart secretly asked her to love him.

And so the cycle continued, Mikasa would date a new guy, and it wouldn't work out, so she would seek out his body for comfort. Then she would break up with the other guy. Or she would be lonely, and he would be there. He tried to move on, find someone new, like Marco told him, but for him, it was always just Mikasa.

Still, his heart was tired of breaking every time he realized he couldn't be with her beyond sleeping with her. So when he knocked on her door that winter evening, he told himself that this would be the last time.

He heard a little groan and a little shuffle before Mikasa opened the door for him. She didn't even bother getting dressed and her hair was a mess. She stood there wearing one of his shirts and wearing no pants, and if Jean wasn't set on ending things, he could have probably taken her right there in the doorway.

Her eyes were pink and tired, and at first he thought she was hung over again, but then he heard her sniffle and cough ferociously and he realized that she was sick.

"What do you want Jean? I'm sick, no sex today," she grumbled.

Jean rolled his eyes, "You know Mikasa, I have other uses besides my ridiculously good looks."

Mikasa turned around and waved him off, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're human and you have feelings. I'm going to go crawl into bed now. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Jean sighed, "Mikasa, we need to talk."

Mikasa stopped dead in her tracks, and no one said anything for a couple of moments before her stomach started to grumble. Mikasa said, "I'm hungry, make me something."

"Mikasa, you're such an ass," Jean said, but he removed his shoes, walked inside her apartment anyways, and pulled out a pot in the kitchen.

MIkasa sat down on her couch and watched him cook. She knew that he wasn't exceptional in anything, but she still loved the way he could compartmentalize things. He always gave a hundred percent to whatever he did, whether it was making love to her or cooking.

They didn't speak while Jean cooked, and Mikasa fell asleep on the couch, her head leaning on the arm rest. When Jean finished, he sat down a bowl of soup on her coffee table and went to her room to get her a blanket. He knew her apartment as well as he knew his.

Thinking about it, sometimes he wondered if he knew her better than he knew himself. He knows about how she always leaves her phone and keys in the first place that she sees, and then freaks out when she can't find them. He knows about how she loves cucumbers and tomatoes, but hates peas, because they taste funny to her and she doesn't like the texture. He knows that she hates being kissed on the neck because she's ticklish, but she loves being kissed on the forehead and holding hands when she has sex with him. And most of all he knows that, even though she'll never admit it, Eren will always be the only one that she'll ever truly love.

He put the blanket around her and sat down next to her.

"Geez Mikasa, you need to take better care of yourself. What do you have if you don't have your health?" He asked quietly. He looked at the opposite wall and didn't realize that Mikasa had woken up. "Well, this isn't exactly how I'd hope to have this conversation, but I'm sorry Mikasa. I can't do this anymore. I love you, and I will always love you, but I need to be loved too. I got a job offer in New York, and I'm going to take it. I start next week."

He stood up and walked past Mikasa to get to the door, but Mikasa grabbed his hand.

"Stay," she said quietly.

Jean pulled his hand away angrily and said, "Dammit Mikasa, I can't keep living my life just for you. We all have our hopes and dreams, and I can't keep holding back."

"I know, I'm sorry, but please, just stay." She was sitting up now, staring at him straight in the eyes. The collar of Jean's shirt fell down slightly exposing her collar and shoulder, and Jean had to turn away so that he didn't get distracted.

"Tell me something, Mikasa, do you ever think about what you're doing to me? You keep wanting to be with me, but you don't want to be with me. Half of the time, I don't know whether I should hate you or love you. Or worse, sometimes I start hating myself for being part of the reason why none of your relationships have ever worked out. Do you have any conscience? Do you even care about me?"

"Of course I do! But I just need to figure myself out right now."

"Sounds like another one of your shitty excuses," he said with finality and walked out of her apartment, leaving her distraught.

—-

It had been two months since Jean had moved to New York. His job kept him too busy to have a social life, but he didn't mind. It kept him from thinking about her. He wasn't sure how long it was going to be before he finally stopped thinking about her altogether, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to happen at all.

But when he opened up his apartment to Mikasa standing there, he didn't know what emotions he should have felt. Was it excitement? Happiness, confusion, anger?

Before he could say anything she spoke up, "You're right Jean, our relationship had been a shitty excuse for me to avoid commitment. I was too scared of loving anyone and losing them, and you were so good to me, I didn't know what I had. I'm tired of running. I want to try this."

"No," Jean said and Mikasa's world spun.

"W-what?" She was not expecting that answer at all.

"Do you think life is some cheesy ass chick flick? Things aren't just going to magically fall into place just because you want them to. Words are useless unless you put action to them. So prove that you care for me, and then we'll consider trying whatever this is. You can start by making dinner and washing my dishes."

"Jean, you're an asshole," she said, but a smile creeped up on her face. She walked towards him and kissed him.


End file.
